Fr. Rale served as a missionary in Maine between 1695 and 1724. For those of you familiar with history, you’ll know that this was a turbulent time. Fr. Rale arrived in Canada on warship at the beginning of King William’s War in 1689. He was a missionary to the Abenakis in the thick of Queen Anne’s War. Both of these wars were fought between England and France over the borders between Acadia and New England and Fr. Rale’s mission was located right in thick of disputed territory on the Kennebec River.
For this reason, Fr. Rale is a controversial figure. To the English, he was a French political agent sent to stir up the Abenaki Indians to attack English settlements. To the French, he was a missionary whose purpose was to preserve the faith of the Abenakis and to be a lone pioneer at the edge of New France. To the Abenakis, he was their beloved pastor, plain and simple. In 1724, the English attacked Norridgewock and killed Fr. Rale. The English claimed they were justified in taking out an incendiary who unlawfully resided on their lands. The French claimed this was murder pure and simple and that he was martyred for the faith.
Much could be said about the politics of Fr. Rale’s life. In fact, I’ve given talks that have focused on those issues and examined the question of who was in the right in this whole dispute. For today, I’m going to set those issues aside. Instead, I want to reflect on Fr. Rale as a Catholic and as a priest.
In order to do this, I have selected five gospel passages in which Jesus instructs His disciples, the first priests. Fr. Rale received the same instructions from the same Jesus Christ. If we want to understand Fr. Rale, we have to understand God’s call to every Christian but especially to the priests. If we want to live out that call, it’s helpful to see it modelled in the life of one of Maine’s own priests.

Leave Everything and Follow Me

Jesus, looking at him, loved him and said to him, “You are lacking in one thing. Go, sell what you have, and give to [the] poor and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.” At that statement his face fell, and he went away sad, for he had many possessions… Peter began to say to him, “We have given up everything and followed you.” Jesus said, “Amen, I say to you, there is no one who has given up house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or lands for my sake and for the sake of the gospel who will not receive a hundred times more now in this present age: houses and brothers and sisters and mothers and children and lands, with persecutions, and eternal life in the age to come. – Mark 10:21-22, 28-30

“Go, sell what you have, and give to the poor…then come, follow me.” These were Jesus’ instructions to the rich young man who wanted to know what he must do to inherit eternal life. They are not easy. In fact, the rich young man went away sad because he had many possessions. He was not yet ready to leave everything to follow Jesus.
In a way this is understandable. Just look at what the disciples had to leave behind: houses, and brothers and sisters and mothers and children and lands. Everything they ever knew, they left behind to follow Jesus. Their own families, their homes, their livelihood, everything for Him.
On the other hand, look at the disciples. Jesus didn’t have to do much persuading to convince them to come after Him. Look at James and John. Jesus merely said, “Follow me,” and they dropped their fishing nets, left behind their father, and followed Him. The gospel doesn’t say what was going on in their heads when they did this, I think in part because words would not be adequate. They didn’t weigh the costs and benefits. They didn’t think about what they were leaving behind. They didn’t even consider who it was they were leaving everything for. Just by looking at Him, they knew this was no mere man: they were encountering Love Himself and He was worth leaving everything for. This sounds crazy to most people, but to those who have known Christ’s love know that this is the pearl of great price that’s worth selling everything for.
Now fast forward 1600 years. Picture Sebastian Rale in his early 20’s. He’s living in Pontarlier, France, not far from the Swiss border. This is where his family has always lived. We know little about his early life, but you can imagine like most young men, this is where he always thought he’d settle down, have a career, and raise a family, there in the place he called home. All those he loved, all his friends, his culture, his roots, were there. And like the disciples, something, or rather someone, made him choose to leave it all behind for a life of poverty, chastity and obedience. At age 25, he entered the Jesuits and left everything he ever knew out of love for Jesus Christ.
But a life of religious poverty wasn’t enough for Sebastian Rale. No, he wanted to give more. As St. Ignatius says, “To give and not to count the cost, to fight and not to heed the wound, to toil and not to seek for rest.” He longed to give everything he had out of love for Jesus. At first you would say, “What could there be left to give? He’s given up all property, the possibility of family, and his own very will.” But there is more left. As soon as Fr. Rale was ordained, he asked to be sent to the missions in New France.
This was dangerous and Fr. Rale knew it. Other missionaries had been assigned there and never come back. Some had died from exposure to the elements. Others had starved. Others had been killed by warring Indian tribes. Still others had been killed by the very tribes they were sent to evangelize. Travel was treacherous. The ship coming over the Atlantic could be lost (and very nearly was.) The canoe taken down the river could sink and in fact Fr. Rale does describe an incident in which he had to leap out of a sinking canoe onto an iceberg to avoid sinking with it.
And yet, listen to what writes to his brother on his arrival there:

I can almost imagine that you are feeling sorry for me; however, I am happy because I have, first of all, fulfilled the vow I made even before joining the Company. Secondly, it is God who has sent me here…Anyhow, why should my fate be a cause for pity? Should I be pitied because I am not preaching in a beautiful city? That is not what I wanted…Should I be pitied because I am often exposed to the cold, because I endure hunger, thirst, or because I am threatened at any moment to be devoured by wild beasts or by certain Indians? Well, these threats will force me always to keep my soul in my hands in order to be ready to present it to my Lord at a moment’s notice, since at any moment I must be ready to appear before him. Is not this a very special favor that the Lord grants me, my dear brother!

In coming to the missions, Fr. Rale, like the first disciples, left everything to follow Jesus and resolved to give without counting the cost. The love of God has that effect. It’s a like a fire that completely consumes us and leads us to give everything for Him, regardless of how much it costs us.
Now, before we move on, note what Jesus says to Peter: no one who has left everything to follow Him, “will not receive a hundred times more now in this present age: houses and brothers and sisters and mothers and children and lands, with persecutions, and eternal life in the age to come.” He promises to bless them abundantly in this life and in the life to come, but He also promises persecutions. All of them are martyred except for Judas the traitor and St. John the Beloved. Persecutions are part of what it means to follow Jesus and Fr. Rale knew that when he signed up for the missions.

Do you love me? Feed my sheep

When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.” He said to him, “Feed my lambs.” He then said to him a second time, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.” He said to him, “Tend my sheep.” He said to him the third time, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” Peter was distressed that he had said to him a third time, “Do you love me?” and he said to him, “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.” [Jesus] said to him, “Feed my sheep. Amen, amen, I say to you, when you were younger, you used to dress yourself and go where you wanted; but when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will dress you and lead you where you do not want to go.” He said this signifying by what kind of death he would glorify God. And when he had said this, he said to him, “Follow me.” – John 21: 15-19

Peter said to Jesus, “We have left everything to follow you,” you could even say, “Out of love for you.” Now Jesus turns to Peter and says, “Do you love me? Really, do you love me? Then feed my sheep. Care for my little ones. Tend to the flock I love so much.” This call doesn’t just mean to the sheep already in the fold, but to the lost sheep as well. Go to the lost, the wandering, the hurting, the ones who do not know His love; He loves them too, and someone must make His love known to them. For this reason, Peter and the disciples went out to all corners of the earth.
Where did Fr. Rale go? To the far ends of the earth, to the most lost and most forgotten of the sheep. The native Americans had only recently heard of Jesus. Many of them, especially the Abenaki nation, were deeply moved by God’s love. They became very zealous Christians. They started witnessing amazing graces and even miracles happening in their tribe through this Jesus Christ. They longed for Him, they longed for someone to bring them the sacraments, but they couldn’t send enough priests to provide for them all.
So Fr. Rale went to these lost and forgotten sheep.
He set right to work. He sailed into Quebec and made his dwelling outside Quebec in an Abenaki mission where he lived with an Abenaki family and began learning the language. He ate their food (although he didn’t much like it), learned how they hunted, and made every effort to live among them and like them. And in not much time, he fell in love with them. He left everything for Christ, and fell in love with the sheep.
His time in Quebec was only two years. His deep love for the Abenaki people is more evidenced in his later years in Maine, where he had the opportunity to spend more time in one place and write more letters about it. However, there is one anecdote that I think underlines the point well. In 1691, Fr. Rale is transferred from Quebec to Illinois. He obeys, but not without hardship. He has become deeply attached to the family he is staying with. In fact, their youngest was just baptized “Sebastian” after him. He describes the scene as follows:

All those in the wigwam where I was taught were very bright. The family had five boys, of whom the youngest, whom I baptized and to whom I gave the name Sebastian, was not more than six months old. I have seen many children, but never have I seen any more alert, nicer, nor with more sparkling spirit than they. I loved them dearly, and often gave them things I had received from Quebec.

When I went to say good-bye to those of my wigwam, they were so shocked they could not speak. I asked them not to awaken the children, as they were still sleeping. However, when they awoke and learned that I had left forever, they begged their mother to embark with them to come say good-bye to me in Quebec, which is three leagues from their village. I was very surprised to see at the door the mother with her children, including little Sebastian. Seeing them so glum, I asked them what was the matter.

“Why are you leaving?” they asked me. “You have loved us, we love you, and you were part of our wigwam. You have been our father. Why are you leaving?” I must admit that I could only answer them with my tears. I kissed them and went directly into the college, and I had meat and bread sent out to them.

This was a man who deeply loved the people he had come to serve. And while it broke his heart to have to leave them, he was leaving for the only thing he loved more than them: Jesus Christ Himself. For God and for His flock, Fr. Rale was prepared to sacrifice anything.
But note once again, what Jesus says to Peter after these instructions. “When you were younger, you used to dress yourself and go where you wanted; but when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will dress you and lead you where you do not want to go.” 19 He said this signifying by what kind of death he would glorify God.” Caring for Jesus flock means persecution. Peter knows that feeding the sheep means dying like His Master. So does Fr. Rale.

The shepherd knows his sheep

“Amen, amen, I say to you, whoever does not enter a sheepfold through the gate but climbs over elsewhere is a thief and a robber. But whoever enters through the gate is the shepherd of the sheep. The gatekeeper opens it for him, and the sheep hear his voice, as he calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has driven out all his own, he walks ahead of them, and the sheep follow him, because they recognize his voice... I am the good shepherd. A good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. A hired man, who is not a shepherd and whose sheep are not his own, sees a wolf coming and leaves the sheep and runs away, and the wolf catches and scatters them. This is because he works for pay and has no concern for the sheep. I am the good shepherd, and I know mine and mine know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father; and I will lay down my life for the sheep.” – John 10:1-4, 11-15

“I am the good shepherd, and I know mine and mine know me”

In 1695, Fr. Rale was assigned to the Norridgewock tribe on the Kennebec River in present day Madison, Maine. He would spend the rest of his life there.
Fr. Rale was incredibly devoted to these people. He built and beautified three churches for them. He founded a school for their children, taught the boys how to serve at the altar, and hosted beautiful Eucharistic procession throughout the year in the village. He was there for them in both spiritual and temporal affairs. He tirelessly said Mass, baptized and heard confessions but he also was there to care for them when they were sick, counsel them when they were doubtful, advise them in important matters. He would even pack up a portable chapel to go hunting with them during the winter. All his time and energy were devoted to caring for the flock entrusted to him.
But guarding that flock would not prove to be simple. He came to these people while they were at war. They would be at war on and off all the time he was there. And with war comes complications.

“Whoever does not enter a sheepfold through the gate but climbs over elsewhere is a thief and a robber. But whoever enters through the gate is the shepherd of the sheep. The gatekeeper opens it for him, and the sheep hear his voice, as he calls his own sheep by name and leads them out.”

Although Norridgewock was located closer to Boston than to Quebec, the Abenaki Nation allied with France rather than England. The reasons for this are complicated, but the influence of the missionaries and the bond of a common faith cannot be discounted. If the English wanted to break the alliance between the Abenaki and the French, they would first have to break that common bond of faith. To do that they would have to get rid of the missionary.
From early on the English tried to persuade the Norridgewock’s to send Fr. Rale away, but they would have none of it. He was like a father to them, they wouldn’t let him go. At one point the English proposed as part of a treaty, that they would rebuild the Norridgewock church but in exchange the tribe would have to send away Fr. Rale and take on a Protestant minister as their pastor and school master. Which voice would they listen to? That of the hired man, who seeks only profit and territorial expansion, or their shepherd who’s whole life has been given to them? One of the chiefs responded as follows:

“Your words astonish me and I wonder at the proposition that you make me. When you arrived here you saw me a long time before the French Governors did; neither those who preceded you, nor your Ministers, ever spoke to me of prayer or of the Great Spirit. They saw my furs, my beaver and elk-skins, and of those alone did they think; it was those that they sought with eagerness; I was not able to furnish them enough, and, when I brought many, then I was their great friend, and that was all. On the contrary, my canoe having one day been misguided, I lost my way and wandered at random for a long time, until at last I landed near Quebec, at a large village of the Algonkins, where the Black Robes were teaching. I had hardly landed when a Black Robe came to see me. I was loaded with furs, but the French Black Robe did not deign even to look at them; he spoke to me first of the Great Spirit, of Paradise, of Hell, and of Prayer, which is the only way of reaching Heaven. I listened to him with pleasure, and I enjoyed his talks so much that I remained a long time in that Village for the sake of hearing him. In short, the Prayer pleased me, and I besought him to instruct me; I asked for Baptism, and received it. Afterward I returned to my own Country and I recounted what had happened to me; my people envied my happiness, and wished to participate in it; accordingly they set out to go to the Black Robe, to ask him for Baptism. It was thus that the Frenchman treated me. If, when you first saw me, you had spoken to me of Prayer, I would have had the misfortune to pray as you do; for I was not capable of distinguishing whether or not your prayer were right. Therefore I tell you that I hold to the prayer of the Frenchman; I accept it, and I shall keep it until the world shall burn and come to an end. Accordingly keep your Workmen, your money, and your Minister; I shall speak of them no more, but I shall ask the French Governor, my father, to send me some.”

The same Protestant minister would attempt to preach to the Norridgewocks. The tribe held to the Catholic faith, but their faith was so new, they didn’t have the resources to be able to respond to Protestant objections. So Fr. Rale stepped up and wrote a 100 page response himself to Mr. Baxter in Latin, responding to all his objections and telling him to leave his flock alone. After attempting to reply, Baxter let it drop and was never seen near Norridgewock again.
It wouldn’t be only on religious matters that Fr. Rale would have to shepherd the Norridgewock tribe. In treaties, Fr. Rale was often asked to be present to advise the tribe. The English had cheated the Abenaki Nation enough times before and they wanted Fr. Rale’s counsel to make sure it didn’t happen again. When Fr. Rale saw the English abusing his flock by stealing their lands, kidnapping them, and selling them alcohol, he couldn’t remain silent. He took a bold stand against the English as any shepherd would do when his flock is under attack by wolves. But as Jesus points out, standing against the wolves means being ready to lay down your life for your sheep.

Unless a grain of wheat falls and dies

Jesus answered them, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. Amen, amen, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains just a grain of wheat; but if it dies, it produces much fruit. Whoever loves his life[p] loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will preserve it for eternal life. Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, there also will my servant be. The Father will honor whoever serves me.
“I am troubled now. Yet what should I say? ‘Father, save me from this hour’? But it was for this purpose that I came to this hour. Father, glorify your name.” – John 12:23-28

Fr. Rale was bold in guarding his flock from attack. He gave everything for them, all his time, all his energy, all his love. But in standing up to the English, he stuck his neck out and opened himself up for attack. The English had long ago, in 1700, outlawed all priests from New England territory under penalty of life imprisonment or death. Now roughly 20 years later, Fr. Rale is openly living on lands New England claims for itself (although the Abenaki disputed that claim) and rebuking them for the treatment of a tribe that they have periodically been at war with for the last fifty years or more. There would be consequences and Fr. Rale knew it.
First, the governor of Massachusetts set a price of 100 pounds on Fr. Rale’s head. Anyone who brought back his scalp would be richly rewarded.
Then, the attacks began. Some young Abenakis were hunting by the shore when they saw the English ship headed up river towards Norridgewock. When they were sure they were headed for the village, they ran ahead to warn their tribe and give them time to escape. Fr. Rale barely had time to go to the chapel and consume the Blessed Sacrament before having to escape into the woods.
The English searched the village for him, but not finding him moved on and began searching the very place of their retreat. Fr. Rale hadn’t been able to move very far into the woods since he had broken his leg years ago, and so he had no recourse but to hide behind a tree and hope for the best. The soldiers came within eight steps of him, but as if driven away by an invisible hand turned back. They plundered his cabin, stole his strongbox containing his dictionary of the Abenaki language, and left them to starve.
This was a close call. Everyone, including Fr. Rale, knew that he had barely escaped with his life that day and that so long as he continued to stay in Norridgewock, his life was in danger.
And so there was a decision to be made. Should he leave and go someplace safer where he could live out the rest of his days (since he was already seventy years old.) Or should he risk everything and continue to stay with the people entrusted to his care?
To many people, the choice would seem obvious. What benefit is there if Fr. Rale is killed? As the psalmist says, “What profit would my death be? My going to the grave?” If Fr. Rale stays and is killed, he can no longer perform any of the functions he used. He cannot say Mass, cannot teach the children, cannot advocate for the tribe. In many ways, it seems like a perfect waste.
Yet in many ways, this is where Christ has been calling him for a long time. “I am troubled now. Yet what should I say? ‘Father, save me from this hour’? But it was for this purpose that I came to this hour. Father, glorify your name.” Like the good shepherd, Fr. Rale knew that love of the sheep would cost him everything. And now that the price reckoned, he will not back away from paying it. The Abenakis have no other priest that could be sent to them. They are too far away from Quebec to be a priority. If Fr. Rale leaves, they will be without the sacraments in their time of greatest. No, he says, “Death alone can separate me from them.” He asks his nephew to pray, “that I may live and die working unceasingly for the salvation of these neglected souls, who were bought with his blood and whom he has deigned to commit to my care.”
And so on August 23rd, 1724, the English invaded. Sneaking through the brush, no one saw them coming. Gunfire rained down on the village. Women and children tried to flee across the river; many of them were shot as they struggled to escape. Some say Fr. Rale, hearing the commotion, stepped out of his cabin to distract the English and give the native enough time to escape, others say the English found him writing in his cabin and he was killed there. Regardless, when the smoke cleared, Fr. Rale’s body was found laying at the foot of an iron cross in the middle of the village while the church lay in ruins behind him.
“Unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains just a grain of wheat; but if it dies, it produces much fruit.” The native took the body of their beloved pastor and buried him in the place where he had so often offered the holy sacrifice of the Mass. A monument today marks the rough spot where the church once stood and where Fr. Rale is believed to be buried. The bell that hung in the church was hidden away in the trunk of tree, to be discovered decades later. The iron cross under which Fr. Rale died still stands on top of St. Anne’s Church on Indian Island near Old Town.
His life and example has indeed born much fruit. The Abenaki nation has long been zealously Catholic. Chief Joseph Orono agreed to fight for the Americans in the Revolution on the condition that they be given a Catholic priest. A priest has been serving the Penobscot Nation ever since. When Fr. Bapst was assigned to Indian Island one hundred years later, he still heard about the legacy of Fr. Rale. Today, the seeds of faith Fr. Rale planted among the native Americans of Maine continues to bear fruit and his story continues to inspire many.

By this we know love

For this is the message you have heard from the beginning: we should love one another, unlike Cain who belonged to the evil one and slaughtered his brother. Why did he slaughter him? Because his own works were evil, and those of his brother righteous. Do not be amazed, [then,] brothers, if the world hates you. We know that we have passed from death to life because we love our brothers. Whoever does not love remains in death. Everyone who hates his brother is a murderer, and you know that no murderer has eternal life remaining in him. The way we came to know love was that he laid down his life for us; so we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers. If someone who has worldly means sees a brother in need and refuses him compassion, how can the love of God remain in him? Children, let us love not in word or speech but in deed and truth. – 1 John 3: 11-18

Finally, we need to look at what lessons there are here for us.
First, Jesus Christ is worth leaving everything behind for.
Second, if we follow we follow Jesus Christ, we’ll be called to give our whole lives over to love. There is no greater joy than this. We were made to love and to be loved.
Third, love will demand sacrifice from us. Loving our neighbor naturally will require us to give of ourselves and sometimes to give even when it hurts. That’s to be expected. But loving Jesus Christ also means being prepared to be hated by the world. This not should not surprise you. If we live our Christian faith, the world will hate us. It’s not that that was our goal, but we can’t be deterred when that happens. They hated Jesus too; if they persecute us like they did Him, it only means we share in His fate.
Fourth, we are to persevere to the end. In the abstract the cross sounds noble and great. In the particular, when you get a look at what the cross actually looks like, it can be very tempting to run away from it. Prepare yourselves now by embracing the little crosses God puts into your life. Keep the fast days the Church prescribes. Make sacrifices for your family and for your neighbors. Take on the struggle necessary to let go of whatever sins may have their grip on you. These are all crosses. They’re not martyrdom, but if you’re willing to say yes to these smaller trials, you won’t be ready if He should ever ask for something big, like He did Fr. Rale.
Lastly, I should say something about the status of Fr. Rale in the Church. Fr. Rale is not a canonized saint. That is not to say no one has proposed it. Fr. De la Chasse in recounting Fr. Rale’s death openly says that he believes him to be a martyr. Many others have thought so as well. Fr. Rale’s cause was sent to Rome in the 1930’s but WWII broke out and the cause was dropped. There’s still interest in seeing him canonized. Only God knows whether this man is a saint. Only God knows whether he is worthy of being raised to the altar of the blessed. But if you found his story inspiring, I’d encourage you to ask for Fr. Rale’s prayers. He has a close connection to this territory and I’m sure he would pray for us if we asked. And ask God, if be His will, that the life of Fr. Rale be more closely examined and that his example inspire vocations in the diocese of Portland. We certainly need that.